


Business Trip

by CalsLaundry



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Dancing, Engagement, F/M, Love, Romance, Wedding Plans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 01:00:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12594504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalsLaundry/pseuds/CalsLaundry
Summary: You're the fiancee of Gabriel Reyes, commander of Blackwatch. Life is good, with a wedding just a few months away.How bad can one business trip be?Side note: The song that's playing is "Perfect" by Ed Sheeran, in case you need more feels ;)





	Business Trip

The radio tones are interrupted by a door slam. You don’t turn, you know who it is; Gabriel’s arms circle your waist and he presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Hey, babe.”   
He grunts his “hello” against your neck and you chuckle.

“That bad a day?”   
“It’s better now.”    
You smile and reach back to pull off his beanie. You run fingers through his hair and you’re rewarded with a pleased grunt.

“Lucky for you, dinner is just ready.”   
  
You eat together, sitting perpendicular. Gabriel’s touch never leaves you. He recites the day’s antics with soft circles on the back of your hand. Even after this long, your stomach still flips when he takes a moment between stories to kiss the same spot while his eyes are locked on yours.

He rises when you do; he always dries the dishes, despite his long hours. Blackwatch was a commitment you didn’t think you could match when you first met. You never knew much, you still didn’t. His hours were crazy, and dates had been moved to suit work. Gabriel seemed married to his work, but now, a diamond glitters from your left hand.    
The melody took over again, now only dotted by the clinks and splashes of dishware. You catch Gabriel staring at you out of the corner of your eye. 

“What?”    
“Nothing.” 

He dries his hands and drops the towel before he steps close.   
“Just wondering how I managed to find an actual angel.”   
Your cheeks heat again.

You busy yourself with drying your hands until the crook of his index finger pulls your gaze to his.    
“I’m lucky, more than lucky, carino.”

Your arms wind around his waist, and your chin rests on his chest

“Aren’t you the one with an angel’s name? I think you have our roles mixed up.”

He snorts.

“I’m no angel.”

“And I love you anyway.”   
He kisses you gently, expressing a softness he doesn’t show with others. You see the changes; his voice softens, his eyes light up, and his grip is gentle. You told him once that you knew he loved you before he did. He had asked if you had known from the first moment you met.   
His hands drop to your hips as he speaks. 

“I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”    
He glances at the radio, and speaks over a song’s beginning.

“May I have this dance?” 

You nod, but he is already pulling you closer. With one hand on your back, he holds your hand in his own. You sway together and it is only moments before your head rests against his chest. The sigh he lets out is one of perfect peace.    
The song wraps around you, and with your eyes closed, you imagine what it will be like in a few months time, to dance together as a married couple for the first time.   
Your hand trails up his arm to his shoulder.    
“You know, I know it’s a little while away, but maybe this could be our first dance song.”

A kiss meets your hair.   
“I love that idea.”   
You smile against his chest and you feel his heartbeat speed up.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Gabriel.”   
“And I can’t wait to marry you.”

  
It takes him a single line to convince you that the kitchen is clean and only a second line to bring you to bed.   
The light shimmers on his bare skin. One of your arms is under his neck and the other is over his ribs, his arms circle your shoulders, and your legs are tangled. Your noses are close enough to send a little tingle to the back of it.

The hushed breaths slow as your arms move at the same time to entwine your hands.    
“Dulcita.”

“My prince.”

“Are you going to take my name?”   
“Are you going to take  _ mine _ ?” You chuckle. “I was thinking about it,” You add seriously. “how do you feel about it?”   
He says your name paired with his surname and your stomach leaps at the sound.

“I like it.”   
You nod in agreement.    
You yawn and he laughs.   
“Maybe we’ll discuss it when we’re more awake.”

“Only if you keep saying it.”   
And he does. Over and over, until he rolls you to pull your back to his chest.    
“Sleep, my love.”   
“The sooner I sleep, the sooner you leave.”

“And the sooner I’ll be back.”   
“Promise?”   
“Always.”

  
The sun wakes you long after Gabriel left, though you had some vague memories of his lips pressing against you before the day had begun.

It is strange, knowing he was away. Business trips weren’t unusual, but the distance between you seems bigger than ever.    
You slip on one of his t-shirts and one of his hoodies; he had left behind enough to keep you feeling his presence. You breathe him in. In the back of your mind, you recall a conversation from the day he was packing, you asked him how cold Switzerland could get, you had promised to look it up, but you never did. 

It isn’t until you were midway through making your morning coffee that you realise you had set out Gabriel’s cup alongside your own. You shake your head and put it back. 

Your day drags. A text came from Gabriel to let you know he landed and you sent him luck and some sweet words. Business trips were quiet time, and you are ready for that.    
Dinner time comes and goes, and you opt for some tv.    
Your mind wanders from the show, and ends on your wedding.   
It was soon. Just a few months. You toy with your ring, picturing everything you had planned. Everything was ready, down to the final detail. 

Your heart swells at the image; standing before Gabriel, saying the vows you’d been planning since the night he proposed, finally giving your lives to one another.   
You replay them, the vows, in your head.    
You knew them by heart, because they were exactly what it wanted to say, what it felt every time Gabriel walked through the door, what it felt every morning, every night, every kiss, and every “I love you”. You smile and sink lower, pulling the hoodie tighter, as if the cloth was Gabriel himself.

Your mind is still on the wedding, now wondering about Gabriel’s vows.   
You see his face flash across the screen and you wonder for a moment if it’s your daydream.   
No.   
Overwatch is on TV. You turn up the sound. Your stomach fills with ice.   
Gabriel’s face and another face, Jack Morrison’s, show on the screen. The sentences don’t register, only random words.  
  
Overwatch headquarters...Switzerland...explosion...no trace.   
  
You sink to your knees, your chest feels hollow, your body doesn’t feel intact. Small sharp breaths, your head starts to spin.   
He can’t be dead.   
He replays, showing clips and pictures of Jack.    
There are only a few of Gabriel.   
You don’t know when you picked up your phone, you don’t know when you dialed his number, you don’t know when the phone was to your ear.   
You do know he’s not going to answer.   
  
He’s never going to answer.   
  



End file.
